The Wizarding Demigod
by Starlit Night 67
Summary: "Stay out of this, Harry!" Percy shouted desperately. "It's a familial affair!" Harry's mind whirled. A family affair? "Ah, yes," Voldemort grinned, "it is a family affair, Potter. After all, young Percy over here is the last remnant of my . . . family." Set after Order of the Phoenix and Blood of Olympus.
1. Chapter 1 - The Wizarding World

Chapter 1 – The Wizarding World

"You're joking, right?"

Disbelieving sea-green eyes met swirling blue in a standoff. Percy's mom had an eyebrow raised like she was saying: _Really?_

Percy just glared at the dog with the long-bearded man in response.

"You're saying," he repeated their words, "That _I_ 'm a wizard, related to a dog,"  
Percy pointed at the shaggy mutt that reminded him of Mrs. O'Leary, his beloved pet hellhound, "who coincidentally happens to be my uncle?" a disbelieving laugh bubbled in his throat. "And you expect me to _teach_ at your school? Do you have _any_ idea of the havoc I've caused at all the schools I've attended?"

His mom shot him a reprimanding glare.

The man with the ridiculously long beard (Who had introduced himself as Albus Dumbledore) just smiled kindly. "Yes, Percy, you are a wizard and the heir of Black."

"Dumbledore," Sally said in exasperation, "The Ministry won't catch you here. Let Sirius show himself would you?"

The dog wagged his tail and looked at Dumbledore pleadingly. Dumbledore caved at the dog's 'puppy eyes'.

"But you transform back in London, is that clear?"

The dog nodded, and right in front of Percy's eyes, turned into a man that could have been a carbon-copy of his mom, only with different coloring.

" _Now_ do you believe us?" his 'uncle's' voice boomed.

Shakily Percy nodded. "Though I'm not going to teach at this school of pig's deformed skin." He said defiantly.

Sally ran a hand across her face while Sirius outright laughed and Dumbledore cracked a small smile.

"You're the most efficient for the job, Percy," Dumbledore said, "seeing that you survived two wars, so you know how to train the students for their own. You need not get involved."

"And what about the magic?"

"As one of Hecate's descendants and relatives," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling, "you will be able to perform spells of any kind very easily. You just have to think as to what you want to do, and you will be able to do it. You just need to outwardly say the name of the spell your students are supposed to say."

Percy groaned just as his ADHD mind began processing the information. He reached the topic of Sirius when –

 _Sirius . . . like Sirius Black?_ Percy's eyes widened dramatically as he remembered the details (Which for some reason Annabeth had had found it necessary to inform Percy of), his mind whirling.

 _Killer of thirteen adults in London, on the loose. Not captured. Eluded the police._

Now that Percy thought about it, the guy in front of him looked like an older version of said murderer

"You!" he pointed accusingly at Sirius. His mum and Dumbledore put on a defensive stance. "You're the one who killed those innocent people in London!"

"Let us explain –" Dumbledore started.

"Oh you better," Percy said condescendingly, "or I'll throw you out. You two," Percy pointed at the wizards, "have um . . ." he looked at his watch, "a minute to elucidate."

Percy blinked. _Elucidate?_ He'd been spending _way_ too much time with Annabeth.

"Oh and mum," he told the only woman in group, "You have some explaining to do."

* * *

 **\- X -**

* * *

England.

It was certainly different from what Percy was used to. London was a sprawl of all different classes of people all lumped together. It was simply, _alive_. At day time, you have the cars and commuters and the tourists, walking around, bumping into one another. It was vibrant and exciting, with lots to see. Then at night, you have the homeless, the druggies and prostitutes, and those with less than noble intentions, nightclubs, bars, they all filled up and then place thrummed with a sort of nervous, tangible energy.

Everyone had a place here, whether it was on the streets or in a posh office setting . . . Unfortunately, Percy kind of stood out. It was really ridiculous. There were plenty of Americans in England. America and England might not have gotten along-but hey, that was what, five generations ago. You'd think they've made up. Sighing, Percy walked quickly away down the street, away from all the stares and glances, into the drizzly rain.

Percy loved the rain. It was nice and crisp, clean, no-nonsense, very different from the rain in New York. While back home, it made him energetic, the rain here, was more at peace. So yeah, Percy compared rain, but if you were a child of Poseidon, god of the sea, storm-bringer, earth shaker, etc. etc. so would you. And suddenly, Percy felt homesick.

Camp Half Blood, currently located on Long Island, New York, the place where demi gods could enjoy the comfort of a monster free existence... Once you survived to get there, you would be claimed by your godly parent, and sorted into your cabin. They have cabins, one for each god or goddess. Before, there used to be only twelve, one for each major god or goddess, now, after the wars, its better. There's a place for everyone.

You might be thinking, what wars? Well, a while ago, Kronos, enemy of the gods, the titan, tried to rise up and overthrow Zeus and company. With the help of the demigods, they were mostly . . . defeated and Kronos cast back to the depths of Tartarus.

You could say that Percy had a big part in this war. Decades ago, a prophecy was made, saying that the child of one of the big three gods (Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon) would either destroy of save Olympus, once they reached sixteen. The gods decided never to have children, but of course, it's kind of hard to break such a long habit, and they epically failed. Zeus had Thalia, who decided to become immortal, at fifteen, and Poseidon had Percy. Hades had two children before the prophecy, but as they were placed inside a time-defying hotel for seventy years, they were still alive today (one of them, anyway,) and he looked to be about fourteen.

When the time came for the prophecy to come true, Percy was the only one qualified. Lucky, lucky him. Percy defeated Kronos with the help of the other half-bloods, and is still alive today.

So just a few months after the downfall of Kronos, Gaea went all mama bird and began seeking revenge. And sadly, Percy had a big part in _that_ war too.

There was a Prophecy (Duh!) about seven half-bloods, Romans and Greeks saving the world together, which included side quests like falling into Tartarus, losing your memories, yada yada.

But back to the matter at hand. Everything was good, they had peace, and happiness, and this was only supposed to be a teaching job. Teach the kids how to fight, and enjoy some time in England while you're at it. It was a great idea. Percy needed a vacation.

But then again, he had to be away from Annabeth, and that was what made the matter a whole lot depressing.

Looking into the window of an interesting antique shop, selling miniature gold horses, (did Percy mention Poseidon was the Lord of Horses?) Percy spotted some very suspicious activity behind him. Two men and a women sporting very bizarre clothes, leaning against a lamppost, were staring intently at him. They had bizarre clothes, as in long, dress robes and ragged looking cloaks. Monsters, these days . . . they didn't know how to keep up with the time.

What alarmed him more, though, was the fact that all the mortals didn't seem to notice them. Were monsters capable of using Mist? A question Percy had to ask Chiron. He met the gaze of the wild looking women in the window, and she smirked. Percy slipped his hand into his jacket, hands clenching around his pen.

Yes, very effective form of defense, you might say, but just wait until he uncapped it. The women whispered something into the ear of a man with platinum blond hair, and together, the trio moved forward, across the street.

Percy had to get out of here. He wasn't running away, but once this meeting escalated into a full scale battle, Percy didn't want mortals getting hurt, or the police chasing him down as a mass murderer . . . Percy had been a fugitive too many times.

Briskly, Percy strolled forward, noting with the corner of his eye how they followed at a distance. Looking at the street sign, Percy carefully maneuvered myself towards the edge of the crowded square, bumping into a few people.

"Sorry, sir," The man turned and Percy saw recognition in his eyes. He stepped forward, something in his hand.

Percy didn't bother checking what it was.

He turned and ran towards an abandoned back alley. Twisting his head, Percy noted that behind him, several other black cloak figures had twisted away from the main crowd, heading in his direction. Two, Four, Six, Eight, a quick head counted totaled at fifteen monsters, all heading in his direction. Percy knew he shouldn't get myself cornered, but Percy couldn't let anymore mortals get hurt.

As he ran, Percy wondered what sort of monsters these were. Telekines? Cyclops? Vampousa? Maybe the women. But were there such things as male vampousai? Percy shuddered at that point. Running deep into the alley, he turned as he reached the dead end. If anything went wrong, Percy would call for back up, as in, Nico.

Did Percy every mention that he _hated_ being stuck?

No? Well here it is. Percy _loathed_ being stuck.

"Potter!" _What?!_ Percy turned, and saw that the owner of the voice was the insane woman who Percy had faintly heard the others call 'Bellatrix'. She had a triumphant smirk as the rest of the black robed people filed into the alley, slowly. In their hands, they had sticks of some sort, some twisted and gnarled, others smooth and long. Okay, so, they were insane, too. Slowly, Percy reached into my pocket, and drew out his pen. The robed creeps all laughed.

"Drop what you're holding, whatever it is!" shrieked the stark mad woman. The platinum blond whispered something into her ear. "I don't care if it's a muggle writing utensil. This is Potter we're talking about." By the end of that litany, Percy was well and thoroughly confused. She'd mentioned Potter twice now, (Percy was fairly sure that his occupation wasn't Pottery and his name did not include 'Potter'. But even if it was, nothing at that point could surprise Percy) and something about muggles . . . The robed figures were restless now that they saw that Percy hadn't put Riptide down.

"You're surrounded, surrender now." This time it was the blondie. The women looked upset that the man had spoken and rudely shoved him aside.

"Your time has come! Our Lord will see you dead!" She cackled.

"Look, lady, I don't know who you are, but newsflash. Kronos is gone. He's in Tartarus. So is Gaea. Dead, for all intents and purposes, okay? So you can go back to where you belong, or I'll banish you to the next millennia." If the bewildered looks on the people's faces where anything to judge by, Percy knew he was in deep.

Stepping forward quickly, Percy uncapped my pen, to have it transform into a six feet long sword. Yes, he knew, very impressive there. Hide a lethal weapon in an innocent writing device. Percy reached over and slashed the blond in the arm. He was really too shocked to do anything at the moment, from Percy's speech and from the transforming sword. Percy's blade passed harmlessly through his arm.

 _Oh._

 _My._

 _Gods_.

His confusion turned to outrage as Percy stepped back.

"Whoops. You're mortal, sorry. Should have known. My mistake." Percy gave up trying to explain and snapped his fingers at him. Maybe he was one of those live action players who belonged to the boy scouts or something.

"You've mistaken me for someone else, there's nothing here, go back to your . . . um cult." The man just stared. _What?_ Now it was Percy's turn to gape at him in confusion. He seemed angered at my form of response.

"Well," Blondie screeched at the others "What are you standing there for? Get him!" They rushed at him. Percy looked around. The alley was useless. An old garbage can was lying on the ground, trash spilling out of it. Old papers were everywhere, ads for everything. Percy backed up. He needed to contact Nico. Percy needed an IM. He needed a source of water. Reaching out with his mind, Percy tried to locate the water, feel the call of the waves.

 _There!_ A water bottle hanging at the waist of one of the robed dudes, he looked like a younger version of blondie. For the sake of simplicity, Percy dubbed him B2, blondie number two. Percy stepped forward, hand out stretched when the woman decided she had enough of this. She raised her stick and uttered a word.

"Crucio!" A jet of red light hit him square in the chest. _What the heck? Maybe I shouldn't get Nico, these guys were potentially dangerous._ Percy raised his eyebrow at her.

"What was that supposed to do?" The robed dudes started muttering to themselves, looking rather uneasy.

So was Percy. How the hell had it not affected him?

Percy ran forward, whoever these guys were, he wouldn't be able to find out now. Percy had to get out of here. Reaching out his hand, Percy willed the water to leap out of the water-bottle, splashing against the B2's face for good measure.

"Gah!" He cried, propelled backwards into a big hulking gray haired man who looked like he hadn't shaved in quite a while. The big guy snarled. B2 quickly stepped forward. If the rest of the dudes were distracted by this, they sure didn't show it. The wild haired women looked quizzically at her stick, and shouted,

"Get him!" Fourteen identical jets of red shot towards Percy from everywhere. He ran right through them. The water rushed towards Percy and he caught it, forming it into a ball that hovered in front of him. The robed strangers all stared questioningly at the woman and she barked:

"We out number him, rush him!" The robed guys all ran towards Percy, the shaggy guy the B2 bumped into jumped ahead with a lean, familiar sort of grace. His teeth bared and snarling.

Percy lobbed his ball of water at him.

Sadly, against someone like that, a ball of water is as effective as, nothing. Percy stepped back as his hand came up to claw Percy's face. Percy ducked and kicked him in the gut.

He crashed into another robed guy. From Percy's other side, blondie came, holding a staff that he had conjured with his stick, or shall we say, wand?

He leapt forward gracefully, swinging his staff. It caught Percy in the gut, and he doubled over breathing heavily, only to twist aside as a much cruder staff from B2 came at his head. Percy reached up and punched him in the face. Blood squirted out of his nose.

"Gah!" Was that seriously the only sound he could make? Well, Percy supposed it was useful. You could identify easily who was getting hurt.

"Draco?"

That was blondie.

He glared murderously at Percy. Gods, Percy only gave his son a nosebleed. People had hacked at him, beat him, teased him, and tortured him, and Poseidon still let them live.

His staff came at me again. Percy dodged out of the way, into the fist of another guy. Summoning his oh-so-useful ball of water, Percy lobbed it at his face. He teetered backward. By now, Percy was effectively pressed against the back of the dirty alley wall.

Gross.

Percy was fending off kicks, punches and occasionally staves and swords. They had realized already that they couldn't get Percy with the jets of light, so they punched and stabbed.

Ducking under a wide swing from B2, Percy had time only to see the glint of steel as the hilt of the sword came crashing down on his head. As if Percy hadn't lost enough brain cells. Percy fell to his knees and curled up.

Everyone stepped back.

The man who had struck Percy, a tall, bat like man with dark greasy hair smirked smugly as someone congratulated him.

"Nice one, Sev."

Blondie stepped forward, and nodded at Sev. He pointed his wand at Percy.

"That won't work, idiot." The women spoke smugly.

"I wonder." The man muttered, and everyone gathered around Percy. " _Petrifius Totalus."_

Percy groaned in pain as his muscles locked legs together, arms at his side. Percy couldn't move an inch.

Stupid wand.

"So, you are able to withstand cruciatus, but not a binding spell? Who are you?" Percy realized that he was waiting for an answer.

"I'm certainly not this Potter, whoever he is." The robed men chuckled. Blondie frowned.

"I already got that bit myself, I think." He looked at Draco.

"Do you recognize him from Hogwarts?" The boy shook his head. _Hogwarts? What?_

"But then again you are American. Filthy race, they are." Wow, this man was harsh.

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm lying in an alley. A dirty, _British_ alley." Draco kicked Percy in the stomach. Percy let out a small yelp. "Watch it!"

"Perhaps you are an elemental?" Finally, a word that Percy could understand!

"No..."

"Whatever you are, we'll find out. Once the Dark Lord sees you...He'll be pleased, I think, even if you aren't Potter." And once again Percy was floundering. _Dark Lord? Potter?_ Perhaps they worked for Percy's uncle Hades.

Percy sighed. Hades would never stop hating him. For several reasons. But if it was Hades, at least Percy would know what was happening here.

"Draco, will you apparate our guest in?" Draco had a malicious grin as he reached down and grabbed Percy arm. Then a twisting sensation, and finally, darkness claimed Percy.

* * *

 **\- X -**

* * *

Percy woke to the feeling of someone slapping him in the face.

Percy cracked his eyes open.

Oh.

It was B2, or rather Draco, as the memories flooded back into his head.

England.

Wizards (Percy guessed that's what you call them).

A Dark Lord.

Percy's eyes roamed around. He was in a classical ancient holding cell. Chains dangling from flaking, dusty, bloody walls. Percy's hands were chained in front of him, and his legs were shacked together. Percy was lying on the cold dank floor.

"The dark lord is here to see you." Percy raised an eyebrow up at Draco.

"Who?" He muttered something that sounded like:

"Ignorant Muggles,"

And despite not understanding the term, Percy had to say, it hurt. He glared at him.

"Get up." There was no point in arguing with him.

Percy struggled to his knees, and looked at Draco. There was no way Percy could stand up with his legs shackled and his hands bound together like that. Sighing, Draco reached over and hauled Percy to his feet, turning, Draco dragged Percy over and opened the door of the cell, shoving him roughly out.

Percy almost fell over again.

As they walked through a surprisingly brightly lit hall filled with portraits, Percy got a better look at Draco. He was about his age, maybe a year older, with sharp, angular, noble features. Icy blue eyes stared menacingly at Percy.

"So. Who is this dark lord that we're so excited about, again?" He looked as if Percy was a fool for not knowing.

"He's the one who will save our kind from the dirty corruption of the primitive muggles. Under his rule, we will rise again to become great." Sounded like a piece of propaganda. He sorted of reminded Percy of Ethan Nakamura. Brainwashed into thinking that what they were doing was the right thing . . .

"Your kind?" Percy asked. He obviously thought himself very highly.

"Purebloods." _Okay?_

"So what's with the hocus-pocus that you can do?"

"I belong to a noble and ancient order of wizards, who have lasted for thousands of generations. Our lord will restore this order again, and the un-pure will be cast away." Percy sighed.

"Can you just give me a name?"

"NO!"

And the conversation kind of came to a dead-end there.

They walked through several halls and chambers all with the elegant, posh look of a rich Victorian manor. Now this is what Percy expected of England. Chandeliers, check; torches, check; fancy portraits of Victorian age people, check.

Finally, they came to a tall, menacing wooden door. It looked old, but fancy, with an air of sophistication. Percy noticed Draco straightening in his robes, unconsciously brushing his shoulder, getting rid of that invisible speck of dust. Slowly Percy walked towards it, until he realized what it was etched with.

Faces.

Young and old, male and female, screaming in pain. They were contorted with agony, and the carver looked like he had fun carving them. And then they started moving. The mouths opened in silent screams, tears of wood grain flowed down their cheeks.

Percy took a step back until Draco prodded him closer. Percy approached the doors again, trying to peel his eyes off of the horrible faces. Whoever owned this house was a sadistic man. Slowly the doors opened, and Percy gasped.

He couldn't help it, really. Percy was facing a grand hall, the floor dark, marble. The walls were covered with thick black tapestries, the high, arched ceiling was held up with Greek style columns, much like the ones at camp (At this point, Percy _knew_ he'd been spending _way_ too much time with his girlfriend). A blood red carpet extended down the length of the hall, leading up to a tall dais. Robed men and women all stood silently on either sides of the carpet.

They stared at Percy.

At the top of the dais, there was a throne, and on the throne, a figure, hidden in shadow. All Percy could see were dark robes, and a pale boney hand that rested on the armrest. The hand alone gave me shivers. Draco prodded Percy forward, done the row of silent robed lunatics. As they walked by, Percy heard snatches of conversation.

"Looks just like Potter!"

"Some sort of Elemental"

"Withstood Lestrange's Cruciatus!"

"Which Lestrange?"

"The crazy one, you moron!"

Percy snorted at that.

Everyone gave a little start as Percy's lips twitched into a smirk. Marching down the row Percy wondered if this was his uncle Hades. He didn't seem like the type. Why would he risk kidnapping Percy though? It would get into a war between the gods again. And if they were wizards . . .

They stopped at the foot of the dais. Draco pushed Percy to his knees, and he landed with a little oomph. Then, Draco knelt beside him, his head bowed. Percy looked up, trying to get a glimpse of who this mysterious Dark Lord was. The pale hand tapped the armrest once, and an ominous voice said:

"Rise and join your parent, Draco, most loyal."

Draco got up and stepped to where his parents were, close to the base of the dais. The pale reached and pointed at Percy.

"So. You do look like Potter."

"So I've been told. Now if only I could find out who Potter is." There was a gasp, as Percy said this. And Percy rolled my eyes. Hades couldn't do anything to him; he saved Olympus. A dry chuckle sounded, and the sound sent shivers down Percy's spine.

"You are not one of us."

"I kind of figure that one out myself, Sherlock." Another gasp.

"How dare you-" That was the woman from earlier.

"Bellatrix." The single word held so much power in it that Percy nearly reeled backwards. Bellatrix immediately stopped talking.

"Who's your parent?" _Was this a monster after all?_ Percy spoke his answer slowly and carefully.

"My father is known as Storm-bringer, and Earth Shaker." If he was part of Percy's world, he'd know.

"Ahh...A forbidden child."

"Who are you?" Percy demanded. The not-supposed to exist thing was a kind of sore spot for him.

A laugh, and then he stood up, and walked into the light.

Percy gasped.

"Dad?" But it couldn't be. He looked just like Poseidon, minus all the laugh lines, and with red eyes. The robed men and women around Percy stirred. Bellatrix looked distraught.

Percy almost laughed at that.

"I do look like him, don't I?" The man smiled. "Let me tell you a story, my loyal followers." _Minions more like_ , Percy thought. But he was curious, so Percy restrained himself.

"Although there exists few nobler then us on this Earth, there is a group of people who are worthy. Known by the muggles as gods and goddesses, they ruled a part of the world and held great power. These immortals were powerful. As powerful as us, or maybe even more, and at their head were three brothers. Zeus, god of lightning and Lord of the Sky was the king of all gods, his brother, Poseidon, was god of the sea, also known as the storm-bringer and the earth-shaker. Finally, the eldest brother, Hades, controlled the realm of the dead, the underworld, with his ghostly minions."

The man continued. "The gods and goddesses went upon the earth, and often had children with the muggles, they did not have the same restrictions as us. But their children were powerful, and they often became the stuff of legends, for they had power, too. These demi-gods often fought however, and the fighting led to the two world wars. Since most of the children that fought and killed were children of the three brothers, the three made an oath to never have children again. Our dear Perseus here is a show of how flimsy that oath was." Here all the robed men laughed. Percy gritted his teeth.

"Yes, Perseus is the demigod son of Poseidon, that was how he was able to manipulate water and almost defeat you. He is a great hero." Here he paused. "You may wonder why I am telling you this, Perseus."

"Yes, enlighten me." Percy snarled.

"I am Lord Voldemort, but my birth name was Tom Marvolo Riddle. Sound familiar?" Percy gasped. Thinking of his father's alias as a human.

"Yes, that's right. My mother was Merope Guant, descendent of the noble line of Slytherin. My father is not the helpless mortal you all thought it was. No, Perseus, what is the name of father's alias, as a human?" Percy closed his eyes.

"Tom Riddle."

The wizards around Percy gasped and started muttering, stopping as Voldemort spoke again.

"I changed my name out of respect for my father, not because it was muggle . . . You see, I was born shortly before the oath. To protect me, my father disowned me, stripping me of my powers as a demigod. But I am also a wizard, see. And one day I will gain my rightful heritage. Yes, I am Lord Voldemort, son of Poseidon, Lord of the Seas." He smirked down at Percy.

"Yes my faithful followers, and this is my brother, Perseus Jackson."

 _What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

 **Thank you, NinerFower.94! As requested, I have made the corrections on the chapters 1 and 2. Thank you for supporting me. Also, I want to adress one particular flamer whose been tailing my stories, just to tell me how horrible they are.**

 **WELL TOO BAD! Listen, Matt. It's getting beyond annoying. If you don't like the story, don't read it. I do whatever the hell I want in _MY_ story, and I don't give a shit about what you think. So go shove that rod up your ungrateful little ass and _never, ever_ address your opinion on my story because honestly, _you'll_ be proving yourself a moron. So, fuck you, you little ungrateful brat.**

 **Putting _that_ aside, **

**R &R**

 **Star**


	2. Chapter 2 - Family

Chapter 2 – Family

 _Now would be a_ really _good time, Dumbledore!_ Percy thought desperately.

Ever since Voldemort had revealed that Percy was his brother, the Death Eaters as they called themselves (Percy just _had_ to laugh at that. Who would want to eat an extra cold bird/human hybrid who had unimaginable power? But then again, Percy was pretty sure his older brother wouldn't appreciate it), tripped over their own two feet to make sure he was comfortable.

Percy hated it.

All his life he was considered an insignificant bug, (Percy had Gabe, Mrs. Dodds, Sloan and Bobofit to thank for that. Mostly) and suddenly he's considered a freaking Lord with a hades of an influence and all that junk. Technically speaking though, he would be a Lord, what with his relation to Poseidon and Sirius.

Lord Perseus Jackson. Black. Whichever.

Ugh. The name just made him go green and have a sudden urge to empty his stomach in the nearest bowl.

Not that Voldemort let him.

Percy removed his monster-proofed iPod from his, putting the headphones, he tapped shuffle, just for the heck of it. Percy had no idea as to what he'd hear.

 _'You're too important for anyone,  
You play the role of all you long to be.  
But I, I know who you really are,  
You're the one who cries when you're alone.'_

 _Such a fitting song,_ Percy mused as he heard Amy Lee pour her heart out. Not that it was a surprise, really, since most of his collection consisted of Evanescence songs. They were depressing, true, but they were also true; the harsh reality of life. Percy knew that the world wasn't all rainbows and sunshines and _hated_ music that insinuated that or was a piece of meaningless garbage.

' _But where will you go?  
With no one left to save you from yourself?  
You can't escape,  
You can't escape,'_

Like hell he could. He couldn't escape from his reality – both external and internal – any more than he could have an IQ as great as Annabeth's mom. Very unlikely. His demons began to take over since Tartarus, and he was slowly dying. No doubt Voldy-Moldy noticed that.

 _'You think that I can't see right through your eyes,  
Scared to death to face reality.  
No one seems to hear your hidden cries,  
You're left to face yourself alone.'_

Could this song remind him of his dilemma any less?

 _'But where will you go (where will you go)  
With no one left to save you from yourself  
You can't escape  
The truth  
I realize you're afraid (I realize)  
But you can't abandon everyone  
You can't escape  
You don't want to escape'_

At this point, Percy was ready to tear his hair out. He _might_ just take up Annabeth's idea of forgetting the person, even if suggested in obvious jealousy.

 _'I'm so sick of speaking words that no one understands,  
Is it clear enough that you can't live your whole life all alone?  
I can hear you in a whisper,  
But you can't even hear me screaming.'_

Percy ran a hand through his hair at the truth of the words. _Why_ did this song out of all songs _had_ to come up?

 _Where will you go (where will you go)?  
With no one left to save you from yourself?  
You can't escape,  
The truth.  
I realize you're afraid (I realize),  
But you can't reject the whole world.  
You can't escape,  
You won't escape,  
You can't escape,  
You don't want to escape._

 _That's it._ Percy thought furiously and switched the device off. If Percy would continue, he had a sinking feeling that another song that would be the literal definition of his life – like this one – would come up.

Percy ran a hand across his face. _What's taking them so long?_ He thought irritably. If wizards took this much, they wouldn't stand a chance as demigods. Hades, they couldn't even stay in one place (ADHD and fear of being eaten alive by a monster or something equally horrible) and these guys take their time.

 _Mental Note: Physical training for all Wizards is mandatory._

Yeah, Dumbledore and Sirius explained that they needed help against some Dark Lord (Sirius was glaring at Dumbledore the whole time, daring him to say the name aloud in Dog form. Percy could tell that it scared the shit out of the old geezer) and was to become a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, since he had a lot of experience in the battlefield. Needless to say, Percy accepted, albeit reluctantly.

And as he did, he could almost hear Annabeth say: _Of_ course _you'd be the one with the crazy magical family, teaching people of your age group how to fight._

 _Annabeth . . ._ Percy thought with a pang of longing. It hadn't even been a day and already he was missing her. What would he do when the nightmares came?

Did Percy forget to mention the nightmares? They came every day since he escaped Tartarus. And without his Wise Girl . . .

Gah.

Percy was named 'Perseus' after the Greek hero, the son of Zeus. The guy fought the monsters, got a good wife, and had a happy ending. Sadly, Percy couldn't say he was living up to the name as he kept recounting how his world went crashing down. The stupid bolt. The asshole Olympian. The monstrous sea. The Islands. The labyrinths. The titans. The loss. The giants. Tartarus. Gaea. The loss.

It all came one after the other, leaving a Percy in constant problems so yeah, he did not live up to his mom's hope of being safe.

A lot of adjectives could be used to describe Percy Jackson. Loyal. Laid-back. Easy-going. Sarcastic. Insane.

Actually, the only two describing words Percy could safely rule out are _sane_ and _safe._ Hardly any demigod couldn't.

And when Voldemort sent him to his room – as if Percy had behaved like an impertinent child – infuriated Percy and got him thinking at the same time.

Percy could still hear the words his half-brother had said to Lucius:

 _'Lucius. Attend to my brother.' Lucius came forward and smiled like a sadist, which was when Percy knew that he shouldn't have broken his son's nose. Voldemort noticed this and frowned at the pure-blood. 'He shouldn't be hurt on your watch, Malfoy, or you will have me to answer to.'_

 _Ah._ Percy's lips curved upwards to create a sardonic smile. _Speak of the devil._

Currently, he had locked the door of his room and muttered words like ' _lock'_ in Ancient Greek. _Surprise, surprise; it did the job._ Percy thought as he heard one short rap.

"Perseus!"

Percy ignored him, opting to play his iPod again.

And once again he could hear Amy Lee's 'What you want'.

 _Do what you what you want,  
if you have a dream for better.  
Do what you what you want,  
Till you don't want it anymore.(Remember who you really are.)_

Percy saw the door shake slightly. He didn't mind.

 _Do what you, what you want  
Your world's closing in on you now (it isn't over)  
Stand and face the unknown (got to remember who you really are)_

 _Every heart in my hands  
Like a pale reflection_

The door shook even more. __

 _Hello, hello, remember me?  
I'm everything you can't control  
Somewhere beyond the pain  
There must be a way to believe  
We can break through_

 _Do what you, what you want  
You don't have to lay your life down (it isn't over)  
Do what you, what you want  
'til you find what you're looking for (got to remember who you really are)_

The door was torn off its hinges.

"Perseus." Voldemort snarled as his eyes flared a bright red. Percy figured now was the time to remove his headphones.

"Sorry." Not even a hint of apology was in that word. He could see his half-brother glance at the gadgets in Percy's hands distastefully.

Voldemort entered into the room like he owned the place. Which he probably did. Perching himself at the humungous king-sized bed, Voldemort looked at him meaningfully.

"I have a proposition." Voldemort said calmly.

"You and your proposition can go to Tartarus for all I care." Percy spat bitter, long since figured out that his half-brother was the Dark Lord Dumbledore was talking about.

"You might like this one I think." Voldemort smirked slightly.

Percy decided to humor his older, sadistic brother. "Go on."

"The Wizarding world is not it was hundreds of years ago." Voldemort said charmingly. "The noble blood has been corrupted and polluted by muggles," _Mortals,_ Percy thought, "who claim to have magical talents, learning alongside proper children of pure blood. And at their head is a senile man, Albus Dumbledore," Percy hated his half-brother now, "who protects them as if they are our equals."

 _But they are._ Percy thought.

"Now, my loyal supporters and I are working hard to bring back the times when mortals feared wizard-kind. One day, mortals and mudbloods alike will cower in fear at the sight of us! One day, our kind will be purged of the dreaded infestation these mortals are! One day we shall rule!" Voldemort said. "So what say you, Perseus? Will you join me in the name of our father?"

 _Hypocrite._

Percy raised his eyebrow. "So you're saying that I should use my talents to help you kill these mortals? That as your half-brother, I should support you? Well, I don't think so. Poseidon would never support something like this."

Percy glared slightly at the older half-blood. "As a demi-god, we are supposed to be the bridge between the mortals and the gods. We protect, and nurture, even when the gods can't do it. Gods, mortals, half-bloods. We are all different, with our different qualities. As half mortal and half god, it's our job to keep the peace...You're saying that you're doing this in the name of Poseidon, but father disowned you, you can't know what he thinks! Just because we have divine blood in our veins doesn't make us better! It gives us more responsibilities!"

Percy was cheering internally at Voldemort's shocked face and his stellar speech.

Soon enough, Voldemort narrowed his eyes, glaring at him with shocking ferocity. Percy put on his best wolf-stare, but sadly, Voldemort seemed unfazed.

"So." He hissed. "And you claim to know our father so well..."

"We _did_ just talk about this." Percy quipped.

"Well, if you claim that we are all equal, how is it that father never visited me?"

That question caught Percy off guard. _Why didn't Poseidon visit him?_

"You said Poseidon disowned you to protect you." Percy said finally, carefully treading on the thin ice between him and his brother. "If he wanted to keep you a secret, he couldn't have visited you." Percy's confidence grew. "He didn't visit me much either, but we have to deal with it. Gods are busy, but it doesn't mean that he doesn't care! He's always watching you, watching out for you."

"Even so, I will honor my father, and this is what I will do-once the wizarding world is under my control, we will conquer the demi-god one too . . . You will stand at the head of my army, Perseus, as my brother."

"I'll never betray my friends like that!" Percy shouted defiantly. Never in a million years.

"You have left me no choice, Perseus," Voldemort said, "Imp –"

He was cut off with a ' _stupefy'!_ to his back. Voldemort spun out of the way as the other man was about to fire another curse, giving Percy a clear view, as hazy as it was with the unsettled dust.

"Not my nephew, Voldemort!" he said, making Percy's heart soar. _Sirius!_

"We meet once again, Black." Percy could see Voldemort grin from the corner of his eye as he stood up. "Tell me," his half-brother taunted, "where's James and Lily?"

Percy could see Sirius' stiffen.

"That's right," Voldemort said with a sick grin, "they're dead, aren't they?"

"I'll kill you!" Sirius screamed through his tears. "For what you did to them!"

Percy saw Voldemort fire a curse at his uncle and reacted out of instinct.

"πάγωμα!" Percy shrieked and was pleased to see Voldemort's curse stop in thin air. Both wizards were frozen in shock. It felt like the spell froze _them_ instead of the curse.

Percy quickly grabbed his uncle and vapor-travelled them out of there to the only place he could envision in London.

Voldemort nearly screamed. He _had_ to get the boy at his side.

* * *

 **\- X -**

* * *

"What did you do?" Sirius clutched the shoulders of his nephew who nearly tore Sirius' hands off.

"I vapor-travelled us to Buckingham Palace." Percy said coolly.

When Percy first found out he had this power, he nearly tore his hair off. How useful that could have been in the two wars!

But now? He was thankful beyond belief because if he had taken a second longer, Percy was pretty sure that Voldemort would have his uncle's head.

Sirius looked at him blankly. Percy sighed, rubbing his hand on his face in exasperation. "I converted our body to vapor, then sped all the way here."

"Oh." Sirius said, looking at him strangely. It made Percy self-conscious.

"What?" He demanded. "Is there something on my face?"

Sirius shook his head. "It's just that . . . without a wand you casted a spell . . . in Greek . . ."

Percy gave him a lopsided grin. "I know. I put Dumbledore's theory in action."

"You need a wand." Sirius insisted.

"I don't." Percy deadpanned, ready to show his maternal uncle some more of his power

"Not for power, dummy," Sirius said, "For the wizards. They'll think you're a threat. Can you speak Latin?"

"Yeah," Percy was confused, "Why?"

"All the spells are in Latin," Sirius explained to the half-blood, "So just speak in Latin while casting the spell."

Percy nodded.

"Buckle up, Perce," his uncle said mischievously, "I'm gonna take you to the wizards."

Percy was dumbfounded. "Wha-" was all Percy got out of his mouth when an arm reached out and grabbed him, whisking him away, into darkness.

And here's a tip regarding that experience.

Don't. Just . . . Don't do it.

Because, as soon as Percy's feet touched solid ground, he nearly vomited. It was like shadow-travel, but not as exhilarating. Percy removed his arm from the other man's grip and looking around, dazed. It appeared to be that Percy was in a living room of some a sort - a cozy one, with a crackling fire and several plush armchairs. Though the room was big, it was warm and comfy, and Percy wondered who lived here. Looking up, Percy saw several more wizards appear in the room, popping into existence beside Sirius.

Percy glared at his uncle, who held his arms up in surrender. "Explain." Percy demanded. Sirius complied and explained what 'Apparating' was. Percy was horrified to know that it included _flying_ and Percy gave Sirius his deluxe I-will-murder-you-if-you-put-me-through-that-torture-again glare because Percy had no desire to fall from the sky by the hands of his _other_ uncle.

Satisfied when Sirius looked ready to panic, he softened the glare and stared at the wizards. He could see Dumbledore with his twinkling eyes, letting Sirius introduce him to the rest.

There was tall guy named Kingsley Shacklebolt, the one with the moving eye Alastor 'Mad-eye' Moody (Percy could smell the nickname and its creator a mile ahead), a red-head named Arthur Weasley, and Percy zoned out, just shaking hands with them.

Judging the way Sirius had snarled at Voldemort, Percy was never going to reveal his secret. Ever.

Then Sirius began to explain the events to the others, who looked shocked beyond belief. Questions were thrown everywhere and it was total chaos till Moody screamed at the wizards to shut up. They all complied, and Percy was fairly sure that they respected the guy and were scared of him.

"What's your name?" Moody asked.

"Percy Jackson."

"How old are you?" That was the stern woman with glasses.

"Seventeen. And you?"

"Sixty." Percy nodded. _Fair enough_. He had seen thousand year old centaurs before.

"Do you work for Voldemort? Or Tom Riddle?" That was Moody again.

"No."

"Then what were you doing in Malfoy Manor?" _Malfoy manor? Where Draco lived?_

"I was brought there. By some wizards. Death Eaters."

"Why did they try to capture you?" That was a middle aged, red haired man, with a slight potbelly. Arthur Weasley

"They thought I was someone else...A potter." There was some shuffling among the group, and suddenly, two identical red haired males popped out.

"Blimey! He looks-" The first one said.

"Just like Harry!" The second one finished. Percy frowned.

"Do you know this Potter?" The wizards looked at me, shocked.

"You don't?" The purple haired witch said. Tonks, probably.

"Umm . . . Not where I come from."

"And where do you come from?" That was Kingsley Shacklebolt, his thoughtful eyes on me.

"America."

"Ahh."

"And you don't work for Voldemort?" Percy shook his head.

"Nope," Percy said, popping the 'p'.

"How is it that you stopped the curse?" Percy sighed.

"I spoke the spell in Greek."

"What!" Confusion all around.

"Okay! That's enough! This boy doesn't work for Voldemort, he can curse without a wand, in Greek! Who are you?" Percy sighed again. _Here came the explanation_. Percy just hoped that whatever he did would not come to bite him back later.

"I'm a demigod."

"A what?"

"Um. You hear of the ancient Greek myths about all those gods and monsters that mortals have?"

"You mean the muggle tales of Zeu-"

"Don't say his name!" Percy shouted at the purple haired witch.

"Why not?"

"Names are powerful things, you never know whose listening." Percy warned, but ended up sounding crazy.

"Blimey, this guy's more paraniod then ol' Moody here." One of the twins muttered.

"Anyhow. The gods and goddesses and monsters - they're real." Everyone exploded in a cacophony of protests and arguments. Only Albus looked thoughtfully at him.

"What?" Percy demanded. "You're wizards and you don't believe this?" That quieted them down.

"But didn't Zeus and everybody die, like millions of years ago?" Percy winced as thunder boomed overhead.

"Don't. Say. The. Names." He hissed at the offender.

"Sorry, Sorry," the redhead murmured.

"But in answer to your question, no they did not. You see, they moved Mount Olympus to America, and are still up to their old habits- having kids with mortals. There's quite a few of us, actually. We usually survive the monsters."

The whole room burst into a huge argument again. Suddenly, the shaggy black haired man spoke up.

"So, you're saying that you are the son of one of the gods." Percy nodded his affirmative. Percy now knew what Chiron felt, explaining all this to people who don't believe. He was never going to irritate his teacher on the topic again.

"Then who's your mom?"

"My mom is a writer. Who happens to love blue food." Percy said fondly.

"Okay," the man nodded. "Your dad, then?" Percy hesitated a bit, before answering.

"Poseidon. God of the Seas, Earth-shaker, Storm-bringer, Lord of Horses."

Everyone raised an eyebrow at this.

"No way," One of the red heads said.

"Yes way." Percy snapped.

"Show us one of your tricks, then." The purple haired witch said eagerly. Percy concentrated on the room around him. There, outside the room, a tap. Percy beckoned the water from it and coaxed it out, into a roaring wave. It came through the door way to the living room, in a huge, six feet tall wave that sloshed over everyone. There were a few shrieks, including an angry glare from the stern women with glasses. Although the water had splashed Percy, he was the only one dry. No one else had been spared.

Percy grinned cheekily up at Albus, who annoyingly enough, wasn't miffed. He smiled at Percy, and with a wave of his wand, dried everyone off.

"Well." He said. "I do believe that we are in the presence of the divine . . ."

"So you're just going to believe him like that!" Moody shouted. "Where's your dad then, boy?"

"My father doesn't come at the beck and call for mortals." Percy replied coldly. Normally, Percy hated when pulling the "Divine Father" card, but Moody was annoying him, so . . .

"Well, how did Voldemort find out about you?" Moody asked.

"He's a demigod too. Or he used to be, before his father disowned him. Now he's just a wizard." The room breathed a sigh of relief that their enemy didn't have the power of the gods behind him.

"So, who is dear old Tom's real father?" _Great._

"I don't know." He lied. The wizards accepted it, but Sirius looked wary, catching the lie. Though he didn't voice it.

Albus looked thoughtfully at Percy.

"Amazing how your world managed to keep hiding from us wizards."

"Yes. And we should keep it that way." Percy said, worried. Albus might be a bigger problem than Voldemort if he wished to exploit the demigod world.

"There is a prophecy-" Albus began.

"Albus, should we really tell him?" The stern woman demanded.

"Relax, Minerva. There is a prophecy that states that a young wizard will have to battle Tom. Only one of them will win. Now, this young wizard is inexperienced-with magic and with fighting, even though his power is great." Percy nodded, taking in the information. He was about to ask Sirius where the bathroom was and thinking it over, Percy asked one last question.

"By the way, what's this kid's name?"

It was the shaggy haired man that spoke.

"Harry Potter."

* * *

 **There's the second chapter. I'm amazed as to how many hits this story received! Thank you so so so much! I will not be scrapping this story now. Thank you for your support!**

 **R &R**

 **Star**


	3. Chapter 3 - Catching On

Chapter 3 – Catching on

After the questioning, Sirius quickly and discreetly caught Percy's arm.

He could see his nephew's expression of _What the Hell?_ Sirius knew that his demigod family member would voice it out loud, so he apparated them before anyone could hear.

"What the Hades?" Percy demanded.

 _Well,_ Sirius thought wryly, _it was close enough._

Sirius decided to directly question Percy instead of beating around the bush.

"I know you know that who Voldemort's godly parent is." He declared. "So why did you lie?"

Percy's face had a momentary flash of alarm before it smoothed over.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Percy said coolly. "If I knew, I would have told you long ago."

Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"Liar." He accused. "I _know_ it. If it helps, kiddo, I won't tell anyone."

Percy's face fell. "But you'll hate me. Forever."

Sirius looked understanding. "I won't. I promise."

Apparently, that wasn't the right thing to tell.

Percy laughed bitterly. "You have _no_ idea how many people have promised me. You have no idea how many times they've been broken. So why should I trust you?"

"Because we're family."

"Family?" Percy asked bitterly. "Because we're _family_? They meant _everything_ to me. They _were_ my family. And what did I get? A stab to the back. I won't breathe a word Sirius, but listen here and listen closely. Voldemort can't touch me now. Not without a war on both fronts. And trust me," Percy said menacingly, "it won't be pretty."

Percy spun on his heel and slammed the door before leaving. Sirius was in a daze to even try to stop him.

 _What exactly had his nephew faced to make him so bitter?_ He wondered. _Seventeen year old kids don't look like they've fought wars. They don't have scars._

 _And most of all, they don't look insane._

Now, as Sirius stared at the door Percy left through, a new-found determination blazed within him.

 _I will find out_. _Nothing will stop me._

* * *

 **\- X -**

* * *

Percy needed to blow off some steam.

Unfortunately for him, Percy had nothing he could destroy. He didn't recon that his maternal uncle would appreciate it.

So he did the first thing that came to his mind. IM Annabeth.

"So, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said cheerfully in greeting, "Where the Hades are you?"

She looked stunning as ever. Her curly princess-style blonde hair was in a high ponytail, and in the background Percy could see the various books that made up the Athena cabin's library. In fact, one was in Annabeth's hand, a bookmark between the pages, marking the spot.

"Nothing Annabeth," Percy forced a smile for Annabeth's sake, "Just meeting relatives."

Annabeth choked on her spit.

"You're with the _gods_?" She said disbelievingly. "Let me guess: You're going to play volleyball with Ares."

"Nope." Percy grinned cheekily. "I'm with my _mom's_ family."

Once again, Annabeth choked.

"Didn't your mother say she had no living relatives?" She asked, curious about the new development.

"Yeah," Percy admitted, "she did. But my mom's dad was a whore and slept around with someone else, who left her in an orphanage. So on and so forth."

Annabeth raised a delicate blonde eyebrow, shaking her head. "Only _you_ , Seaweed Brain. Only you."

Percy smirked. "Of course. I'm Percy Jackson for crying out loud! Son of Poseidon, pisser of immortals, and hated of the fates."

"That pretty much sums it up," Annabeth agreed, "I mean, you're a walking trouble factory."

"That I am," Percy smiled fondly, before the smile turned upside-down, "That's not the only thing about my family."

Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "What is it?" She asked suspiciously, though there was a hint of resignation in her voice.

"They're wizards."

"You better not be playing games with me Seaweed Brain." Annabeth warned, her eyes flashing in annoyance.

When she saw Percy's serious stare, for the third time in five minutes, Annabeth choked and gargled a ' _What?!_ '

Percy nodded his head solemnly. "They're wizards, I'm a Lord, not that I wasn't before," Percy made a face as Annabeth's face took on an incredulous look, "And since I'm a demigod, magic is really easy for me. I don't even need a stick."

Annabeth nearly laughed. _Typical Seaweed Brain_.

"And," Percy dragged the word, "That's just the tip of the iceberg."

Annabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow and made a _go on_ gesture.

"I found another Big Three half-blood." Percy declared and watched Annabeth's jaw drop to the floor. " _And_ the guy's my half-brother."

If Annabeth's jaw wasn't on the ground, it certainly was now.

"Poseidon broke the oath _again_?" Annabeth exclaimed, surprised. Who wouldn't be?

Percy nodded his head grimly. "No, he didn't. He cheated death. And he's the villain over here."

Annabeth's eyes widened before taking on a cool exterior. "Let me guess," Annabeth joked, "The guy wants you for his evil army."

Percy grinned. "You got it."

The screen started flickering as the time allotted ran out. With a hasty 'goodbye' to Annabeth, he swiped across the Iris Message and left the bathroom.

And bumped head-first into ratty brown haired girl carrying books. Which he knocked over.

"Sorry!" Percy exclaimed, picking up the fallen books and gathering them. "I didn't mean to-" Percy's words died in his throat when he got a good look of the person who he crashed into.

Messy brown hair, intelligent brown eyes, around his age.

Her eyes widened along with his.

"Hermione." Percy breathed.

* * *

 **\- X -**

* * *

Admittedly, Percy looked exactly the same.

Only he became hotter.

 _What happened to the scrawny boy who got into fights for me?_ Hermione thought as she looked at the face of her childhood best friend. His hair was still the mess of untamable locks she'd always known. His eyes too, were still the same sea-green, only with a hint of darkness and mania.

Even his _aura_ changed. Instead of that joyful innocence she was familiar with, there was a soldier-like exterior, along with the burden of a lone survivor or a guilty man. But Hermione was glad to know his happy-go-lucky persona hadn't changed in the slightest, along with his endearing lop-sided grin.

"Percy!" she exclaimed happily, hugging her long-time friend, who encircled his arms around her in return. "How are you? How's Aunt Sally? Wha-"

"Easy there, Hermy," Percy interrupted. "Don't forget, I'm ADHD."

Hermione blushed, embarrassed that she hadn't taken that into account.

Percy chuckled at the faint dusting of pink across her cheeks and continued, "And for the record, I'm fine, and so is mom. What about Mr. and Mrs. Granger? Are they okay?"

"Mom and dad are great," she told the raven-haired boy. "So tell me, Green-eyes," Hermione joked, "What happened after I left America?"

And with that, Percy and Hermione launched into a conversation on their lives ever since their separation, the words flying out of their mouth as their minds began to get acquainted with the presence of the other after such a long time. Percy told her all about the schools he blew up (Hermione laughed out loud much to Percy's chagrin) the nationwide man-hunt (Hermione was horrified to know that), the Camp and what they did there (excluding the demigod part), and how he managed to remain in Goode for a year without doing anything wrong (Well, Kelli's incident didn't count as 'Expel Material'.

Green-eyes was the term by which Hermione thought of him when they first met. He had the most stunning and gorgeous eyes she'd ever seen and dubbed him that till he introduced himself as Percy Jackson when he took the beating from the bullies for her. They immediately clicked.

In return for Percy's life, she poured hers. From her sorting in Gryffindor in her first year and finding out that the DADA teacher, Professor Quirrell, was _Voldemort_ (Hermione noticed Percy minutely flinch it that. It made her _very_ suspicious) to the basilisk and the chamber of secrets in her second year to Sirius escape from Azkaban in her third (When she'd explained what Azkaban was at Percy's insistence, she was terrified to see his face drain of color. What exactly had happened to him?) to helping Harry in the Triwizard tournament last year (Hermione promised to introduce Harry to him. She was sure they'd get along splendidly) and kept talking about a subject that irritated her to no end.

Ronald Weasley.

It felt nice to get it all out, talking to her best friend about all her problems (which Percy listened to with rapt attention with a knowing smirk playing on his face. Oh how Hermione wanted to slap it off his face) and just enjoyed the older boy's presence after a long time.

And when Percy asked about Hogwarts she happily launched into its schedules and subjects, giving her opinion of the Professors when Percy said he was to be transferred here. Hermione was bursting with happiness at the prospect. She was surprised and horrified to know that _Percy_ of all people was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher because every teacher in the history of Hogwarts who applied for the job after Dumbledore's refusal of Voldemort's job application. She hoped that _he_ wouldn't die/get mutilated/go to the dark side by the end of the year.

Needless to say, this was going to be an interesting year, what with Perseus Jackson teaching.

"Come on!" Hermione dragged Percy. "You have _got_ to see Harry and Ron! I'm sure you guys will be great friends!"

* * *

 **\- X -**

* * *

 _Well this is certainly awkward._ Percy thought as Harry and Ron stared at him like he dropped from Mars. Not that he wasn't doing the same for them; or Harry, at least.

The guy was a freaking carbon-copy of Percy!

Okay, Percy _may_ have over-exaggerated a little. Okay, a lot! But seriously, the guy had his untamable hair, and facial structure and what not. Even his eyes were _green_. Not that sea-green Percy had; oh no, that was a small town, going by the name Sea-green Eyes: Population two, father and son, Poseidon and Percy Jackson. Harry had that clear and bright emerald green eyes. And where Percy sported a lithe swimmer's build, Harry looked like a scrawny fifteen year old. And not to mention his glasses and his legendary lightning bolt scar (Zeus was going to have a field day with the younger wizard).

In other words, the only relations between Percy and Harry were their untamable hair and green eyes if you don't count the different shade.

So yeah, Percy had been exaggerating. A lot.

Ronald Billius Weasley on the other hand, was a different story entirely. The guy had flaming red hair (Like Arthur Weasley and Rachel) with blue eyes that Percy found himself unimpressed with. He had a tall wiry build, and looked uncomfortable in his own skin for some reason. The guy blushed when he saw Hermione, and his knowing smirk made a reappearance.

Looks like Percy was going to play matchmaker.

Gods, he felt like an Aphrodite kid at the moment.

Just as he completed the thought, the door opened and a very motherly Molly Weasley began ushering him out of the room, insisting that he was going to be sorted (He didn't particularly care for the houses, after he heard Hermione's long rant when she talked about Hogwarts.)

They crossed door after door and frankly, Percy found himself annoyed to the point of decapitating Molly Weasley with Riptide, if only for her to stop her incessant mothering. She was even worse than _his_ mom. At least Sally Jackson understood the dangers her son had to face; but oh no, Molly Weasley was the farthest you could be from Percy's mom. She nearly fainted when she found out that he was in the middle of two wars ("He is a _teenager_ for Merlin's sake!" Molly had claimed) which was one of the reasons he did not speak of his . . . _vacation_ to Tartarus.

 _Ha!_ Percy thought, snorting slightly. _That_ was _pretty funny._

You people must be confused by this point. See, when Percy and Annabeth jumped into Tartarus, they had to cross the Mansion of Night. And that tourist ploy . . . boy, was Annabeth a genius or what? Back then Percy was terrified, but now that he recalled the situation, he had to use all of his will power from laughing out loud.

After _ages_ of wandering The Burrow, they entered a quaint little room which Percy guessed served as the planning room, for a lack of a better term, what with all the somber looks. Percy flashed a smile at every occupant in the room as Molly quietly retreated from the room.

There were a lot of stern looking older people, who were probably the Professors of Hogwarts. A tall man with the slick black hair and the ever present sneer that Hermione had complained about stood at Dumbledore's right was probably the Potions teacher, Severus Snape. A stern looking woman with glasses with her hair in a bun was standing at Dumbledore's left side was probably the Transfiguration Professor, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Then there was another stern-looking woman and a short dwarf-like guy who was Professor Flitwick if Hermione's description was correct. There were more teachers, but Percy couldn't bring himself to care, instead focusing at the man at the center.

Albus Dumbledore.

His eyes were _still_ twinkling gods-dammit, and his grandfatherly smile was ever present. In his gnarled hands lay an old, dusty brown hat.

Percy was so not going to put that . . . that _monstrosity_ on his head. Albus grabbed his hand gently and guided Percy to the only chair in the room that Percy thought would creak and shatter under his weight, if the size was anything to go by. Percy gulped nervously, eyes glued on the rickety old chair.

Slowly, his feet walked towards it ( _one step at a time, Perce_ ) of their own accord. Soon he found himself sitting on it, his knees tucked to his chest. At least, that's what Percy _felt_.

"Look Percy," Dumbledore said gently. "Since you're not a previous student of Hogwarts, and neither are you ever going to be, so we're Sorting you here quietly. Now this hat," Dumbledore cleared a little of the dust that accumulated on the horrendously dirty object, "will be placed on your head, and based on your personality, it will put you in either Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Slytherin. Got that?"

Percy nodded, but was still confused.

"How is this thing," Percy pointed at the pointy hat, "going to Sort me?"

"Easy," Flitwick said, "It will say it."

Percy nearly laughed. _A talking hat? You have got to be joking!_

"Oh ye of little faith!" the brown thing said through folds that resembled lips. "I am a _magical_ hat. Hogwarts' Sorting Hat!"

Percy nearly jumped a foot in the air hearing the not-so-inanimate object speak.

Looking at Percy for permission, which Percy granted, Albus put the Sorting Hat on Percy's head.

And should he say it? It was horrid. Percy hated anyone breach his mind.

'Ah, what have we got here?' the Sorting hat mused in Percy's head. Gods, that just sounded weird. "A demigod? Interesting. Very interesting. The last time I sorted such an anomaly was four years ago when that D-"

'Get on with it!' Percy said impatiently in his head.

'Kids, no patience these days.' The hat chastised.

'I don't care!' Percy replied.

'Testy, this one.' The Hat said to itself. 'There are too many traits for me to figure out which house you'll be in. let me just search through your memories . . .'

'NO!' Percy protested, but when unnoticed by the dirty old hat currently placed on top of his head. He began seeing the parts of his past he'd rather not delve into –

 _An eight old Hermione being bullied._

 _The Minotaur nearly killing his mom._

 _Grover without pants._

 _His near-death experience at his first Capture the Flag._

 _The Lightning Bolt._

 _The Council of Olympians._

 _His father calling him a mistake._

 _Luke's betrayal._

 _The boat with the undead soldiers._

 _Thalia's dying pine._

 _Scylla and Charybdis._

 _Circe and Polyphemus' Islands._

 _The Golden Fleece._

 _Bianca's death due to the defective Talos._

 _Holding the sky._

 _Losing Zo_ _ë_ _._

 _Nico crying._

 _Blowing up Mt. Saint Helens._

 _Calypso._

 _The Titanomanchy._

 _Hera messing with his mind._

 _Roman's camp._

 _Leo firing from the Argo II._

 _Falling into Tartar-_

"That's enough!" The Sorting hat wailed loudly to all the occupants before promptly passing out. That was a major fail.

All the teachers looked shocked as Dumbledore wordlessly removed the Sorting Hat from Percy's head, the later glaring at the unconscious former for breaching the privacy of his mind. What gave the ratty thing the right to do that?

"Well . . ." Dumbledore broke the thick tension in the room, smilingly brightly at Percy, who was still angry at the magical hat. "Looks like you're a member of every house, Percy."

The teachers snapped out of their haze, explain the rules of their respective houses.

 _This was going to be a long day._ Percy groaned internally.

* * *

 **Oh. My. Gods. You have _got_ to be _kidding_ me! Fifty-one favorites! You guys are awesome! Gods, that's like, twenty-five favorites per chapter! Wow, just . . . wow. I have no words. Consider me dumbstruck. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. It's more of a filler, really. Anyway, if any of you guys are shadowhunters, check out _The Third Morgenstern._ Or, if you guys are Supernatural fans, _Last Breath_ (one-shot) and _The Demigodly Hunter_ are up! My updates will get slower, due to the end term exams (It's in two months and they are _hard_. Like college-level hard for middle-school. I'm not kidding. Copy/Paste directly from Wikipedia. So far I'm managing A's, and I'd like to keep it that way so I'm sorry. **

**R &R**

 **Star**


	4. Chapter 4 - About Hogwarts

Chapter 4 – About Hogwarts

Despite Hermione's great praise of "Hogwarts is _only_ the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the _world!_ " Percy found the sound of Hogwarts rather . . . well, _unimpressive._

Don't tell anyone he said that.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a British wizarding boarding school teaching the magical arts, located in Scotland inside Hogwarts Castle. The castle was in the mountains near a loch. The precise location of the school can't be uncovered because it has been rendered 'Unplottable' (Was that even a word?). Also, to Mortals (Or 'Muggles' as the wizards called them) the school looked like an old abandoned castle.

Similarly, Hogwarts' location was protected in order to prevent their ways of teaching being revealed, as well as protect the students and schools themselves from any harm.

Established around the ninth or tenth century, Hogwarts was considered to one of the finest magical institutions in the Wizarding World. Children with magical abilities might be enrolled at birth, and acceptance is confirmed by 'owl post' (Percy was sure every owl would poop on his head – just to spite him) when they turned eleven.

The school's motto is _Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus_ , which when Percy translated it (Courtesy of the hardwired Ancient Greek and Latin) meant _Never tickle a sleeping dragon_.

That was a new low. Percy had done the exact opposite _before_ he entered the school. Well, it hadn't been pretty. It had involved make-up, a horn, a sleepy Frank, a sword, water, a spear, water, several other animals and did Percy forget to mention water?

At least he wasn't entering as a student.

Even after all that, he had hoped that the appearance of the castle would be something new.

It wasn't.

Hogwarts Castle was a large, seven-story high building supported by magic, with a hundred and forty two staircases throughout its many towers and turrets and very deep dungeons. The Castle houses Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, regarded as the finest wizarding school in the world.

Hogwarts was built in a valley area — surrounding mountains were part of the landscape — with the fairly large Great Lake to the south of the main building. The huge main oak front doors lead into the Entrance Hall face the west, and open up to sloping lawns. The deep Forbidden Forest extended around to the west of the Castle. There were exterior greenhouses and vegetable patches on the school grounds.

Hogwarts was located in the Scottish Highlands, near the all-wizard village of Hogsmeade and "not far" from Dufftown in Banffshire, and Achintee in Lochaber.

Once again, _lame_. At least considering the majesty of Olympus.

But if Annabeth was here, she'd be drooling.

Oh yeah . . .

Percy pulled out his iPod and took a snap. Maybe then she'd be satisfied and _not_ annoy him for details.

So when he'd been he was a member of all houses, Percy had protested (with Sirius' snickers in the background. Well, Percy would like to see _him_ do the jobs of the assistant of _four_ houses) and luckily, gotten to choose.

For some reason, Snape rubbed him the wrong way. There was something the wizard was hiding. Which was why he joined Slytherin.

Yes, yes, he knows. Sirius had given him a reprimanding lecture regarding that most of which Percy had passed away by daydreaming of Annabeth after _that_ fiasco.

After all, keep your friends closer and your enemies closer. And also one of the things that represented Slytherin was _water_.

Percy couldn't resist!

Let's get back to Snape, shall we? The guy had practically been throwing a bitch-fit – all through his dark eyes.

It unnerved Percy a bit – Okay! A lot! – but there was something the supposedly smarmy bastard was hiding from everyone.

And his uncanny talent with _Potions_ . . . that really put Percy on edge.

Something about him screamed: _'Dark and powerful person over here!'_

Annabeth would approve.

Snape really _did_ seem like a guy who had many secrets about many things. Him and Albus Dumbledore – both. No one could be so _grandfatherly,_ and that twinkle in his eyes was _obviously_ fake.

So yeah. Percy had to keep an eye on them both on that matter.

Snape and Dumbledore seemed incredibly close.

Dude no! They weren't gay! It's like . . . business partners, you know? It was like they were on-board with something . . . and they didn't want a certain someone to find out.

Percy didn't dare tell _that_ to Hermione.

She'd have thrown a fit, going into a lecture about how Dumbledore is this, Dumbledore is that, Dumbledore did this and did you know Dumbledore did that, blah, blah, blah. He didn't need another lecture, thank you very much. Sirius' was more than enough.

But thankfully _someone_ had been following his thought process – It was one Ginevra Weasley. She'd been sending suspicious glances towards the said people the whole while. _Finally_ , someone with brains.

Ginny would have done well in Camp. Ares' child perhaps? Whatever (Jeez, he sounds like _Mr. D_ ) but the point remains – she was rather resourceful.

Percy liked that.

And in the fight against his half-brother . . . she would be one of the best strategists and the most level-headed person around.

He knows, he knows! He'd been slipping into what everyone called his 'general mask'. Thing was, after the war, he and Annabeth had been proclaimed as the Generals of the Titan War. Annabeth was in command of the strategies, and he was in command of the garrison. Capuche? Good.

So, they both had masks – his was the 'General Mask', Annabeth's was her 'Thinking Face'. Sort of like that. And they were one of the best in their respective didvisions.

For example, Percy was a good judge of someone else's character. He was like a freaking Sherlock Holmes when it came to that stuff. Give him a minute with the other person, he'll tell you exactly what kind of moral base said person had.

Annabeth, on the other hand, could tell you exactly how useful the person was, and how you could take him down within a minute. She was like, well, there just _wasn't_ anyone you could compare Annabeth Chase on that stuff.

This was one of the greatest reasons why together, they were a force to reckon with.

And Percy will be needing this very ability to get him out of this mess.

He just wished it would be enough.

* * *

 **\- X -**

* * *

Harry had a troubled night's sleep.

His parents wove in and out of his dreams, never speaking; Mrs. Weasley sobbed over Kreachers dead body, watched by Ron and Hermione who were wearing crowns, and yet again Harry found himself walking down a corridor ending in a locked door. He awoke abruptly with his scar prickling to find Ron already dressed and talking to him.

And for some bizarre reason, Harry kept seeing Voldemort as a sixteen-year old with shining green eyes. It was almost uncanny as to _how_ much he resembled Percy (The American who was _supposedly_ their DADA teacher). He only knew that it wasn't Percy because his smile was off, like something dark was tainting it. In all the time Harry had spent with Percy Jackson (which admittedly, wasn't much) and the tales Hermione had narrated, he just _knew_ that kind of smile didn't belong on Percy.

Were they related, or something?

". . . better hurry up, Mum's going ballistic, she says we're going to miss the train."

There was a lot of commotion in the house. From what he heard as he dressed at top speed, Harry gathered that Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs into the hall; Mrs. Black and Mrs. Weasley were both screaming at the top of their voices.

"- COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS -"

"- FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS -"

Hermione came hurrying into the room looking flustered, just as Harry was putting on his trainers. Hedwig was swaying on her shoulder, and she was carrying a squirming Crookshanks in her arms.

"Mum and Dad just sent Hedwig back." The owl fluttered obligingly over and perched on top of her cage. "Are you ready yet?"

"Nearly. Is Ginny all right?" Harry asked, shoving on his glasses.

"Mrs. Weasley's patched her up," said Hermione. "But now Mad-Eye's complaining that we can't leave unless Sturgis Podmore's here, otherwise the guard will be one short.'

"Guard?" said Harry. "We have to go to King's Cross with a guard?"

"You have to go to King's Cross with a guard," Hermione corrected him.

"Why?" said Harry irritably. "I thought Voldemort was supposed to be lying low, or are you telling me he's going to jump out from behind a dustbin to try and do me in?"

"I don't know, it's just what Mad-Eye says," said Hermione distractedly, looking at her watch, "but if we don't leave soon we're definitely going to miss the train. . ."

Hermione jumped as though scalded and hurried out of the room. Harry seized Hedwig, stuffed her unceremoniously into her cage, and set off downstairs after Hermione, dragging his trunk.

Mrs. Black's portrait was howling with rage but nobody was bothering to close the curtains over her; all the noise in the hall was bound to rouse her again, anyway.

"Harry, you're to come with me and Tonks," shouted Mrs. Weasley - over the repeated screeches of 'MUDBLOODS! SCUM! CREATURES OF DIRT!' - "Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor's going to deal with the luggage – oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!"

A bear-like black dog had appeared at Harry's side with Percy Jackson as he was clambering over the various trunks cluttering the hall to get to Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh honestly . . ." said Mrs. Weasley despairingly. "Well, on your own head be it!"

The dog barked happily and Percy petted his head. Sirius sent his nephew a scathing glare to which Percy responded with a smug little grin.

Mrs. Weasley wrenched open the front door and stepped out into the weak September sunlight. Harry, Percy and the dog followed her. The door slammed behind them and Mrs. Black's screeches were cut off instantly.

"Where's Tonks?" Harry said, looking round as they went down the stone steps of number twelve, which vanished the moment they reached the pavement.

"She's waiting for us just up here," said Percy with sparkling green eyes. They always seemed to sparkle – like the wild sea – unlike Dumbledore's near false glitters. On Percy it looked natural. On the Headmaster, it did not. Much.

An old woman greeted them on the corner. She had tightly curled grey hair and wore a purple hat shaped like a pork pie.

"Wotcher, Harry, Percy," she said, winking. "Better hurry up, hadn't we, Molly?" she added, checking her watch.

"I know, I know," moaned Mrs. Weasley, lengthening her stride, "but Mad-Eye wanted to wait for Sturgis . . . if only Arthur could have got us cars from the Ministry again… but Fudge won't let him borrow so much as an empty ink bottle these days… how Muggles can stand traveling without magic."

Percy looked slightly affronted at that.

But the great black dog gave a joyful bark and gamboled around them, snapping at pigeons and chasing its own tail. Harry couldn't help laughing, and he heard Percy laugh too. Sirius had been trapped inside for a very long time. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips in an almost Aunt Petunia-ish way. Percy looked like he was remembering someone when he saw that expression.

It took them twenty minutes to reach King's Cross on foot and nothing more eventful happened during that time than Sirius scaring a couple of cats for Harry's entertainment. Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through on to platform nine and three-quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families. Harry inhaled the familiar smell and felt his spirits soar . . . he was really going back . . .

"I hope the others make it in time," said Mrs. Weasley anxiously, staring behind her at the wrought-iron arch spanning the platform, through which new arrivals would come.

Percy's eyes kept following his uncle. His looked extremely uncomfortable, and some part of Harry felt for the older bloke.

"Nice dog, Harry!" called a tall boy with dreadlocks.

"Thanks, Lee," said Harry, grinning, as Sirius wagged his tail frantically. Percy rolled his eyes.

"Oh good," said Mrs. Weasley, sounding relieved, "here's Alastor with the luggage, look . . ."

A porter's cap pulled low over his mismatched eyes, Moody came limping through the archway pushing a trolley loaded with their trunks.

"All okay," he muttered to Mrs. Weasley and Tonks, "don't think we were followed . . ."

Seconds later, Mr. Weasley emerged on to the platform with Ron and Hermione. They had almost unloaded Moody's luggage trolley when Fred, George and Ginny turned up with Lupin.

"No trouble?" growled Moody.

"Nothing," said Lupin.

"I'll still be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore," said Moody, "that's the second time he's not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus."

"Well, look after yourselves," said Lupin, shaking hands all round. He reached Harry last and gave him a clap on the shoulder. "You too Harry. Be careful."

"Yeah, well, keep your head down and your eyes peeled open for anything. You never know what's out there," Percy said amiably beating Moody to the chase. He shook Harry's hand before he headed to the teacher's compartment with a respectful 'bye' to everyone present. Something told Harry that he hadn't been kidding at all.

"And don't forget, all of you - careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don't put it in a letter at all."

"It's been great meeting all of you," said Tonks, hugging Hermione and Ginny "We'll see you soon, I expect."

A warning whistle sounded; the students still on the platform started hurrying on to the train.

"Quick, quick," said Mrs. Weasley distractedly, hugging them at random and catching Harry twice. "Write . . . be good . . . if you've forgotten anything we'll send it on… on to the train, now, hurry. . ."

For one brief moment, the great black dog reared on to its hind legs and placed its front paws on Harry's shoulders, but Mrs. Weasley shoved Harry away towards the train door, hissing, "For heaven's sake, act more like a dog, Sirius!"

"See you!" Harry called out of the open window as the train began to move, while Ron,

Hermione and Ginny waved beside him. The figures of Tonks, Lupin, Moody and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shrank rapidly but the black dog was bounding alongside the window, wagging its tail; blurred people on the platform were laughing to see it chasing the train, then they rounded a bend, and Sirius was gone.

"He shouldn't have come with us," said Hermione in a worried voice.

"Oh, lighten up," said Ron, "he hasn't seen daylight for months, poor bloke."

"Well," said Fred, clapping his hands together, "can't stand around chatting all day, we've got business to discuss with Lee. See you later," and he and George disappeared down the corridor to the right.

The train was gathering still more speed, so that the houses outside the window flashed past, and they swayed where they stood.

"Shall we go and find a compartment, then?" Harry asked.

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.

"Er," said Ron.

"We're - well - Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage," Hermione said

awkwardly.

Ron wasn't looking at Harry; he seemed to have become intensely interested in the fingernails on his left hand.

"Oh," said Harry. "Right. Fine."

"I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey," said Hermione quickly. "Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time."

"Fine," said Harry again. "Well, I - I might see you later, then."

"Yeah, definitely," said Ron, casting a shifty, anxious look at Harry. "It's a pain having to go down there, I'd rather - but we have to -I mean, I'm not enjoying it, I'm not Percy," he finished defiantly.

"I know you're not," said Harry and he grinned. But as Hermione and Ron dragged their trunks, Crookshanks and a caged Pigwidgeon off towards the engine end of the train, Harry felt an odd sense of loss. He had never traveled on the Hogwarts Express without Ron.

"Come on," Ginny told him, "if we get a move on we'll be able to save them places."

"Right," said Harry, picking up Hedwig's cage in one hand and the handle of his trunk in the other. They struggled off down the corridor, peering through the glass-paneled doors into the compartments they passed, which were already full. Harry could not help noticing that a lot of people stared back at him with great interest and that several of them nudged their neighbors and pointed him out. After he had met this behavior in five consecutive carriages he remembered that the Daily Prophet had been telling its readers all summer what a lying show-off he was. He wondered dully whether the people now staring and whispering believed the stories.

In the very last carriage they met Neville Longbottom, Harry's fellow fifth-year Gryffindor, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor.

"Hi, Harry" he panted. "Hi, Ginny… everywhere's full… I can't find a seat…"

"What are you talking about?" said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. "There's room in this one, there's only Loony Lovegood in here —"

Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.

"Don't be silly," said Ginny, laughing, "she's all right."

She slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside. Harry and Neville followed.

"Hi, Luna," said Ginny, "is it okay if we take these seats?"

The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty blonde hair, very pale eyebrows and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look.

Something about her reminded Harry of Percy.

He knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of Butterbeer corks, or that she was reading a magazine upside-down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded.

"Thanks," said Ginny, smiling at her.

Harry and Neville stowed the three trunks and Hedwig's cage in the luggage rack and sat down.

Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stared and stared at Harry, who had taken the seat opposite her and now wished he hadn't.

"Had a good summer, Luna?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harry. "Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harry Potter," she added.

"I know I am," said Harry.

Neville chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes on him instead.

"And I don't know who you are."

"I'm nobody," said Neville hurriedly.

"No you're not," said Ginny sharply. "Neville Longbottom - Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw."

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," said Luna in a singsong voice.

She raised her upside-down magazine high enough to hide her face and fell silent. Harry and Neville looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. Ginny suppressed a giggle.

The train rattled onwards, speeding them out into open country. It was an odd, unsettled sort of day; one moment the carriage was full of sunlight and the next they were passing beneath ominously grey clouds.

"Guess what I got for my birthday?" said Neville.

"Another Remembrall?" said Harry, remembering the marble-like device Neville's grandmother had sent him in an effort to improve his abysmal memory.

"No," said Neville. "I could do with one, though, I lost the old one ages ago… no, look at this…"

He dug the hand that was not keeping a firm grip on Trevor into his schoolbag and after a little bit of rummaging pulled out what appeared to be a small grey cactus in a pot, except that it was covered with what looked like boils rather than spines.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," he said proudly.

Harry stared at the thing. It was pulsating slightly, giving it the rather sinister look of some diseased internal organ.

"It's really, really rare," said Neville, beaming. "I don't know if there's one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts, even. I can't wait to show it to Professor Sprout. My Great Uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I'm going to see if I can breed from it."

Harry knew that Neville's favorite subject was Herbology but for the life of him he could not see what he would want with this stunted little plant.

"Does it - er - do anything?" he asked.

"Loads of stuff!" said Neville proudly. "It's got an amazing defensive mechanism. Here, hold Trevor for me . . ."

He dumped the toad into Harry's lap and took a quill from his schoolbag. Luna Lovegood's popping eyes appeared over the top of her upside-down magazine again, to watch what Neville was doing. Neville held the Mimbulus mimbletonia up t o his eyes, his tongue between his teeth, chose his spot, and gave the plant a sharp prod with the tip of his quill.

Liquid squirted from every boil on the plant; thick, stinking, dark green jets of it. They hit the ceiling, the windows, and spattered Luna Lovegood's magazine; Ginny, who had flung her arms up in front of her face just in time, merely looked as though she was wearing a slimy green hat, but Harry, whose hands had been busy preventing Trevor's escape, received a faceful. It smelled like rancid manure.

Neville, whose face and torso were also drenched, shook his head to get the worst out of his eyes.

"S-sorry," he stuttered. "I haven't tried that before . . . didn't realize it would be quite so… don't worry, though, Stinksap's not poisonous," he added nervously, as Harry spat a mouthful on to the floor.

At that precise moment the door of their compartment slid open.

"Oh… hello, Harry," said a nervous voice. "Um . . . bad time?"

Harry wiped the lenses of his glasses with his Trevor-free hand. A very pretty girl with long, shiny black hair was standing in the doorway smiling at him: Cho Chang, the Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

"Oh… hi," said Harry blankly.

"Um…" said Cho. "Well . . . just thought I'd say hello . . . bye then."

Rather pink in the face, she closed the door and departed. Harry slumped back in his seat and groaned. He would have liked Cho to discover him sitting with a group of very cool people laughing their heads off at a joke he had just told; he would not have chosen to be sitting with Neville and Loony Lovegood, clutching a toad and dripping in Stinksap.

"Never mind," said Ginny bracingly. "Look, we can easily get rid of all this." She pulled out her wand. "Scourgify!"

The Stinksap vanished.

"Sorry," said Neville again, in a small voice.

Ron and Hermione did not turn up for nearly an hour, by which time the food trolley had already gone by. Harry, Ginny and Neville had finished their pumpkin pasties and were busy swapping Chocolate Frog Cards when the compartment door slid open and they walked in, accompanied by Crookshanks and a shrilly hooting Pigwidgeon in his cage.

"I'm starving," said Ron, stowing Pigwidgeon next to Hedwig, grabbing a Chocolate Frog from Harry and throwing himself into the seat next to him. He ripped open the wrapper, bit off the frog's head and leaned back with his eyes closed as though he had had a very exhausting morning.

"Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each house," said Hermione, looking thoroughly disgruntled as she took her seat. "Boy and girl from each."

"And guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" said Ron, still with his eyes closed.

"Malfoy," replied Harry at once, certain his worst fear would be confirmed.

"'Course," said Ron bitterly, stuffing the rest of the Frog into his mouth and taking another.

"And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione viciously. "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll . . ."

"Who's Hufflepuff?" Harry asked.

"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," said Ron thickly.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," said Hermione.

"You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil," said a vague voice.

Everyone turned to look at Luna Lovegood, who was gazing unblinkingly at Ron over the top of The Quibbler. He swallowed his mouthful of Frog.

"Yeah, I know I did," he said, looking mildly surprised.

"She didn't enjoy it very much," Luna informed him. "She doesn't think you treated her very well, because you wouldn't dance with her. I don't think I'd have minded," she added thoughtfully, "I don't like dancing very much."

She retreated behind The Quibbler again. Ron stared at the cover with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds, then looked around at Ginny for some kind of explanation, but Ginny had stuffed her knuckles in her mouth to stop herself giggling.

Ron shook his head, bemused, then checked his watch.

"We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often," he told Harry and Neville, "and we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something."

"You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!" said Hermione sharply.

"Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all," said Ron sarcastically.

"So you're going to descend to his level?"

"No, I'm just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine."

"For heaven's sake, Ron -"

"I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. "I… must… not… look… like… a… baboon's… backside."

Everyone laughed, but nobody laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. She let out a scream of mirth that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings indignantly and Crookshanks to leap up into the luggage rack, hissing. Luna laughed so hard her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs and on to the floor.

"That was funny!" Interrupted a voice.

They all turned around and saw Percy Jackson with his eyes watering and a grin that looked like it was being fought with. Luna and Percy's eyes widened when they caught sight of each other before promptly bursting into laughter once again.

Luna's prominent grey eyes swam with tears as she gasped for breath, staring at Ron. Utterly nonplussed, he looked around at the others, who were now laughing at the expression on Ron's face

"Are you taking the mickey?" said Ron, frowning at her.

"Baboon's . . . backside!" Percy choked, holding his ribs.

Everyone else was watching them laughing, but Harry glancing at the magazine on the floor, noticed something that made him dive for it. Upside-down it had been hard to tell what the picture on the front was, but Harry now realized it was a fairly bad cartoon of Cornelius Fudge; Harry only recognized him because of the lime-green bowler hat. One of Fudge's hands was clenched around a bag of gold; the other hand was throttling a goblin. The cartoon was captioned: _How Far Will Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts?_

Beneath this were listed the titles of other articles inside the magazine.

 _Corruption in the Quidditch League:_

 _How the Tornados are Taking Control_

 _Secrets of the Ancient Runes Revealed_

 _Sirius Black: Villain or Victim?_

"Can I have a look at this?" Harry asked Luna eagerly.

She nodded, looking at Percy, both of whom were breathless with laughter.

Harry opened the magazine and scanned the index.

This, too, was illustrated by a rather bad cartoon; in fact, Harry would not have known it was supposed to be Sirius if it hadn't been captioned. Sirius was standing on a pile of human bones with his wand out. The headline on the article said:

 _SIRIUS - BLACK AS HE'S PAINTED?_

 _Notorious mass murderer or innocent singing sensation?_

Harry had to read this first sentence several times before he was convinced that he had not misunderstood it. Since when had Sirius been a singing sensation?

 _For fourteen years Sirius Black has been believed guilty of the mass murder of twelve innocent Muggles and one wizard. Black's audacious escape from Azkaban two years ago has led to the widest manhunt ever conducted by the Ministry of Magic. None of us has ever questioned that he deserves to be recaptured and handed back to the Dementors._

 _BUT DOES HE?_

 _Startling new evidence has recently come to light that Sirius Black may not have committed the crimes for which he was sent to Azkaban. In fact, says Doris Purkiss, of 18 Acanthia Way, Little Norton, Black may not even have been present at the killings._

 _"_ _What people don't realize is that Sirius Black is a false name," says Mrs. Purkiss. "The man people believe to be Sirius Black is actually Stubby Boardman, lead singer of popular singing group The Hobgoblins, who retired from public life after being struck on the ear by a turnip at a concert in Little Norton Church Hall nearly fifteen years ago. I recognized him the moment I saw his picture in the paper. Now, Stubby couldn't possibly have committed those crimes, because on the day in question he happened to be enjoying a romantic candlelit dinner with me. I have written to the Minister for Magic and am expecting him to give Stubby, alias - Sirius, a full pardon any day now."_

Harry finished reading and stared at the page in disbelief. Perhaps it was a joke, he thought, perhaps the magazine often printed spoof Hems. He flicked back a few pages and found the piece on Fudge.

 _Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, denied that he had any plans to take over the running of the Wizarding Bank, Gringotts, when he was elected Minister for Magic five years ago. Fudge has always insisted that he wants nothing more than to 'co-operate peacefully' with the guardians of our gold._

 _BUT DOES HE?_

 _Sources close to the Minister have recently disclosed that Fudge's dearest ambition is to seize control of the goblin gold supplies and that he will not hesitate to use force if need be._

 _"_ _It wouldn't be the first time, either," said a Ministry insider. "Cornelius 'Goblin-Crusher' Fudge, that's what his friends call him. If you could hear him when he thinks no one's listening, oh, he's always talking about the goblins he's had done in; he's had them drowned, he's had them dropped off buildings, he's had them poisoned, he's had them cooked in pies . . ."_

Harry did not read any further. Fudge might have many faults but Harry found it extremely hard to imagine him ordering goblins to be cooked in pies. He flicked through the rest of the magazine. Pausing every few pages, he read: an accusation that the Tutshill Tornados were winning the Quidditch League by a combination of blackmail, illegal broom-tampering and torture; an interview with a wizard who claimed to have flown to the moon on a Cleansweep Six and brought back a bag of moon frogs to prove it; and an article on ancient runes which at least explained why Luna had been reading The Quibbler upside-down. According to the magazine, if you turned the runes on their heads they revealed a spell to make your enemy's ears turn into kumquats. In fact, compared to the rest of the articles in The Quibbler, the suggestion that Sirius might really be the lead singer of The Hobgoblins was quite sensible.

"Anything good in there?" asked Ron as Harry closed the magazine.

"Of course not," said Hermione scathingly, before Harry could answer. "The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."

"Excuse me," said Luna; her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. "My father's the editor."

"I - oh," said Hermione, looking embarrassed. "Well, it's got some interesting… I mean, it's quite . . ."

"I'll have it back, thank you," said Luna coldly, and leaning forwards she snatched it out of Harry's hands. Riffling through it to page fifty-seven, she turned it resolutely upside-down again and disappeared behind it, just as the compartment door opened for the third time.

Percy sighed fondly at her antics. The _definitely_ knew each other.

"So guys," he said, "what's up?"

They stared at him.

Neville was rather looking rather confused while everyone else who knew him (excluding Luna, she was still immersed in _The Quibbler_ ) looked at him like he'd dropped from Mars.

"What?" He asked defensively.

"Perseus Jackson," Hermione said sternly, making Harry snigger. Percy shot a glare at Harry that made him sober up, "You sneaked out of the teacher's compartment, had a good laugh and _then_ ask us _what's up_? Really?"

"Now that you put it that way . . ." Percy mumbled.

Hermione sighed like a long-suffering person. "Whatever. We're great, Percy. Now," She said, "why are you out of the teacher's compartment?"

"The teachers were grouches!" Percy complained. "I was going to die of boredom!"

Harry laughed uproariously. That seemed like a typical Percy move. Even Luna had a faint smile on her face. Ron and Ginny looked like they were trying not to laugh while Neville still had that bewildered look on his face.

"Wait . . ." the botany-enthusiast said, "You're Professor Jackson?"

Percy frowned. "Dude," he said, "I'm like, two years older than you. That 'Professor' thing makes me sound old. Call me Percy. But remember, call me Perseus and you'll find yourself drowning in a deep, dark lake."

Neville gulped, nodding vigorously.

Percy laughed. "Just kidding. But seriously, it's fine if you call me Percy."

"Okay." Neville said hesitantly.

Percy smiled. "I have to go know; someone might notice I'm not there, See you guys later! Be safe, Luna!"

And with that, Percy walked off. Such a shame. He was such an amiable person. As soon as they left, Harry and company were greeted with the last people they wanted to see,

The sight of Draco Malfoy smirking at him from between his cronies Crabbe and Goyle any more enjoyable than it was any other time.

"What?" he said aggressively, before Malfoy could open his mouth.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," drawled Malfoy, whose sleek blond hair and pointed chin were just like his fathers. "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Yeah," said Harry, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville laughed. Malfoy's lip curled.

"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?" he asked.

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Hermione sharply.

"I seem to have touched a nerve," said Malfoy, smirking. "Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line."

"Get out!" said Hermione, standing up.

Sniggering, Malfoy gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, with Crabbe and Goyle lumbering along in his wake. Hermione slammed the compartment door behind them and turned to look at Harry, who knew at once that she, like him, had registered what Malfoy had said and been just as unnerved by it.

"Chuck us another Frog," said Ron, who had clearly noticed nothing.

Harry could not talk freely in front of Neville and Luna. He exchanged another nervous look with Hermione, then stared out of the window.

He had thought Sirius coming with him to the station was a bit of a laugh, but suddenly it seemed reckless, if not downright dangerous… Hermione had been right… Sirius should not have come.

What if Mr. Malfoy had noticed the black dog and told Draco? What if he had deduced that the Weasleys, Lupin, Tonks and Moody knew where Sirius was hiding? Or had Malfoy's use of the word dogging been a coincidence?

The weather remained undecided as they traveled further and further north. Rain spattered the windows in a half-hearted way, then the sun put in a feeble appearance before clouds drifted over it once more. When darkness fell and lamps came on inside the carriages, Luna rolled up The Quibbler, put it carefully away in her bag and took to staring at everyone in the compartment

instead.

Harry was sitting with his forehead pressed against the train window, trying to get a first distant glimpse of Hogwarts, but it was a moonless night and the rain-streaked window was grimy.

"We'd better change," said Hermione at last, and all of them opened their trunks with difficulty and pulled on their school robes. She and Ron pinned their prefect badges carefully to their chests. Harry saw Ron checking his reflection in the black window.

At last, the train began to slow down and they heard the usual racket up and down it as everybody scrambled to get their luggage and pets assembled, ready to get off. As Ron and Hermione were supposed to supervise all this, they disappeared from the carriage again, leaving Harry and the others to look after Crookshanks and Pigwidgeon.

"I'll carry that owl, if you like," said Luna to Harry, reaching out for Pigwidgeon as Neville stowed Trevor carefully in an inside pocket.

"Oh - er - thanks, " said Harry, handing her the cage and hoisting Hedwig's more securely into his arms.

They shuffled out of the compartment feeling the first sting of the night air on their faces as they joined the crowd in the corridor. Slowly, they moved towards the doors.

Harry could smell the pine trees that lined the path down to the lake. He stepped down on to the platform and looked around, listening for the familiar call of "firs'-years over 'ere… firs'-years…"

But it did not come. Instead, a quite different voice, a brisk female one, was calling out, "First years line up over here, please! All first-years to me!"

A lantern came swinging towards Harry and by its light he saw the prominent chin and severe haircut of Professor Grubbly-Plank, the witch who had taken over Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures lessons for a while the previous year.

"Where's Hagrid?" he said out loud.

"I don't know," said Ginny, "but we'd better get out of the way, we're blocking the door."

"Oh, yeah . . ."

Harry and Ginny became separated as they moved off along the platform and out through the station. Jostled by the crowd, Harry squinted through the darkness for a glimpse of Hagrid; he had to be here, Harry had been relying on it - seeing Hagrid again was one of the things he'd been looking forward to most. But there was no sign of him.

He can't have left, Harry told himself as he shuffled slowly through a narrow doorway on to the road outside with the rest of the crowd. He's just got a cold or something . . .

He looked around for Ron or Hermione, wanting to know what they thought about the reappearance of Professor Grubbly-Plank, but neither of them was anywhere near him, so he allowed himself to be shunted forwards on to the dark rain-washed road outside Hogsmeade Station.

Here stood the hundred or so horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the castle. Harry glanced quickly at them, turned away to keep a lookout for Ron and Hermione, then did a double-take.

The coaches were no longer horseless. There were creatures standing between the carriage shafts. If he had had to give them a name, he supposed he would have called them horses, though there was something reptilian about them, too. They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bon ewas visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither - vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats. Standing still and quiet in the gathering gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister. Harry could not understand why the coaches were being pulled by these horrible horses when they were quite capable of moving along by themselves.

"Where's Pig?" said Ron's voice, right behind Harry.

"That Luna girl was carrying him," said Harry, turning quickly, eager to consult Ron about Hagrid. "Where d'you reckon -"

"- Hagrid is? I dunno," said Ron, sounding worried. "He'd better be okay . . . "

A short distance away, Draco Malfoy, followed by a small gang of cronies including Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, was pushing some timid-looking second-years out of the way so that he and his friends could get a coach to themselves. Seconds later, Hermione emerged panting from the crowd.

"Malfoy was being absolutely foul to a first-year back there. I swear I'm going to report him, he's only had his badge three minutes and he's using it to bully people worse than ever . . . where's Crookshanks?"

"Ginny's got him," said Harry. "There she is…"

Ginny had just emerged from the crowd, clutching a squirming Crookshanks.

"Thanks," said Hermione, relieving Ginny of the cat. "Come on, let's get a carriage together before they all fill up…"

"I haven't got Pig yet!" Ron said, but Hermione was already heading off towards the nearest unoccupied coach. Harry remained behind with Ron.

"What are those things, d'you reckon?" he asked Ron, nodding at the horrible horses as the other students surged past them.

"What things?"

"Those horse -"

Luna appeared holding Pigwidgeon's cage in her arms; the tiny owl was twittering excitedly as usual.

"Here you are," she said. "He's a sweet little owl, isn't he?"

"Er . . . yeah . . . he's all right," said Ron gruffly. "Well, come on then, let's get in… what were you saying, Harry?"

"I was saying, what are those horse things?" Harry said, as he, Ron and Luna made for the carriage in which Hermione and Ginny were already sitting.

"What horse things?"

"The horse things pulling the carriages!" said Harry impatiently. They were, after all, about three feet from the nearest one; it was watching them with empty white eyes.

Ron, however, gave Harry a perplexed look.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about - look!"

Harry grabbed Ron's arm and wheeled him about so that he was face to face with the winged horse. Ron stared straight at it for a second, then looked back at Harry.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"At the - there, between the shafts! Harnessed to the coach! It's right there in front -"

But as Ron continued to look bemused, a strange thought occurred to Harry.

"Can't… can't you see them?"

"See what?"

"Can't you see what's pulling the carriages?"

Ron looked seriously alarmed now.

"Are you feeling all right, Harry?"

"I . . . yeah . . ."

Harry felt utterly bewildered. The horse was there in front of him, gleaming solidly in the dim light issuing from the station windows behind them, vapour rising from its nostrils in the chilly night air. Yet, unless Ron was faking - and it was a very feeble joke if he was - Ron could not see it at all.

"Shall we get in, then?" said Ron uncertainly, looking at Harry as though worried about him.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah, go on…"

"It's all right," said a dreamy voice from beside Harry as Ron vanished into the coach's dark interior. "You're not going mad or anything. I can see them, too."

"Can you?" said Harry desperately, turning to Luna. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her wide silvery eyes.

"Oh, yes," said Luna, "I've been able to see them ever since my first day here. They've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am"

Smiling faintly, she climbed into the musty interior of the carriage after Ron. Not altogether reassured, Harry followed her.

* * *

 **I know, I know, I'm the worst author in the history of authors. But I couldn't help it! I had a small case of writer's block because of exams . . . So yeah. _So_ sorry about that! And just one more thing: **

_**OH.**_

 _ **MY.**_

 _ **FREAKING.**_

 _ **GODS!**_

 **105 favorites? 172 Follows? 41 Reviews? Thanks guys *blushes*! You guys are the best! Wow. Just wow. 35 favorites per chapter? That's like, 10 more than last time. You guys are awesome! Thanks for supporting me all the way. Also, check out my other stories - a brief introduction about them is available on my profile, along with future stories. Um . . . I guess that's it.**

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 **Star (Who happens to love you all so much right now!)**


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